


Happy Trails

by flammablehat



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Community: merlinblitz, F/M, First Kiss, Light-Hearted, Opposites Attract
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-05
Updated: 2014-03-05
Packaged: 2018-01-14 15:54:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1272421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flammablehat/pseuds/flammablehat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gwen prefers to do things by the book.  Naturally, the universe has other plans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Trails

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [week 1 prompt](http://merlinblitz.dreamwidth.org/579.html) at [merlinblitz](http://merlinblitz.dreamwidth.org): rainwater

Gwen showed up to her first day of volunteering fully prepped out for any eventuality. She almost hadn’t been able to close her fanny pack for all of her well organized supplies, but Elyan helped her muscle the zipper through the last inch. She’d thanked him for his strong hands and he’d raised an eyebrow, prompting her to smack him. 

She arrived at the trailhead fifteen minutes ahead of schedule and smiled. Clouds scudded across the sky on a lazy wind, cutting most of the noonday glare, but a bit of sunscreen never hurt anyone and she had just enough time to apply a thorough layer before her trail guide arrived. 

Twenty minutes later she was biting her lip, resisting the urge to check her waterproof watch again. She’d spoken with Mr. Pendragon just that morning. She was certain he’d told her they would meet at twelve sharp, but maybe she’d heard wrong? 

A jingle of keys made her startle. 

“Mr. Pendragon?” She called, trying to peer through the light underbrush. A lean, tan arm pushed aside the cluster of ferns she stood beneath and Gwen found herself abruptly confronted with a young man in a white t-shirt, cargo shorts, and hiking boots. She reached for her pepper spray. 

“Arthur is fine,” he said, grinning and holding out a hand. “Sorry I’m late, bit of a surprise getting called up for this today.” 

Gwen peered at him. “You’re Mr. Pendragon?” 

“Ah, no,” Arthur said, eyebrows lifting and mouth flattening slightly. “That would be my father and he sends his apologies. Bit of a crisis at one of our campgrounds, something about boy scouts and a fire?” He tilted his head before shaking off the thought, unconcerned. 

“Oh,” she said, slowly lowering her hand from her pack. “That’s okay. As his son, I’m sure you know just as much about local foliage as Mr. Pendragon!” She tried, brightly. He lifted his eyebrows again.

“Sure,” he said. “What on earth are you wearing?”

“Um, a poncho?” she said, lifting her arms so the lightweight plastic unfolded a bit. “The weather report said there was a forty percent chance of rain today. Where’s your gear?” 

He shrugged a CamelBak onto his shoulders with a grin that was somehow both alarming and dizzying and hooked his carabiner of keys onto one of the straps. 

“Ready to go?” he said, catching the drinking nozzle between his white, slightly crooked teeth. Gwen swallowed. 

“Yeah, okay,” she said faintly. He set off on the trail. After a brief moment, she followed.

\---

Thirty solid minutes of hiking later, Gwen was managing to keep up in spite of the sweat that poured down her face and made a sticky swamp of her back and chest. Arthur didn’t seem to have much interest in pausing to examine toadstools or the lichen growth on knotty, wrinkled bark. He did seem to like talking, mostly about himself. But he smiled and held low hanging branches out of her way, so Gwen found herself equally torn between reluctant gratitude, annoyance, and flustered appreciation for the flex of muscle in Arthur’s calves as he climbed.

Thunder grumbled overhead, making Arthur pause in the middle of a triumphant story about a pass he made on the football field to glance skyward. He took a pull off his water pack before offering the nozzle to Gwen, which she declined, trying to control her panting. 

“There’s a really neat waterfall this way,” he said, pointing.

\---

The clouds cracked open like an egg just as they reached the foot of the falls. Buoyed that her preparations hadn’t been a complete waste, Gwen tugged up her hood and let Arthur usher her behind the crashing water into a shallow cave. Mist floated around them in thick, visible ribbons, but they were sheltered from the brunt of the storm by the heavy awning of rock.

Gwen shook herself off, her poncho shedding a patter of droplets onto the slick stone floor. Behind her Arthur laughed. She turned in time to see him toss his head back, the gesture useless if he meant to do anything but clear his sopping hair out of his eyes. He was completely soaked through, from the top of his head to the toes of his boots. His t-shirt clung to his stomach like a milky layer of plastic wrap. 

“Hey,” he said, lips quirking in a grin. “You’re staring.” 

“What?” Gwen sputtered, abruptly reminded of the swamp underneath her poncho as she flushed with fresh heat. “No I’m not.” She pointedly averted her eyes and began trying to wrestle out of her sticky layer of plastic. 

“Alright,” he said easily, grin still present in his tone. “It would’ve been fine if you had been, though.” 

“But I wasn’t,” Gwen protested, muffled. “What would I be staring at anyway? I mean, not to say you aren’t worth looking at. Or that you are! I hadn’t noticed. You wouldn’t have gotten so soaked if you’d been better prepared, you know.” 

“Need help?” he asked, voice suddenly much closer, and neatly helped extricate her from her poncho with one sharp tug. 

“You have,” she said, trailing off to find herself in disorienting proximity to muscled arms and chest, “ah, very strong hands.” She finished. 

“You’re doing it again,” he smiled, gently tipping up her chin. 

“Yeah…” She swallowed. “Okay.” 

“Okay?” he grinned, leaning in.

“Yes, definitely okay,” she said, losing track of what they were talking about but feeling very certain it demanded a yes. 

“Okay then,” Arthur said, and his mouth tasted like rainwater and Gwen decided she might skip her prep for day two altogether if this was the reward for spontaneity.


End file.
